


Serenity

by BullySquadess



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Mentions of Anxiety, mentions of sensory overload
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-19 01:14:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11302701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BullySquadess/pseuds/BullySquadess
Summary: Drabble written for Ninette Week! Cross-posted to Tumblr.





	Serenity

**Author's Note:**

> Rebloggable version here: http://bullysquadess.tumblr.com/post/160704514667/ninette-week-day-one-serenity

Marinette’s life was one of vivacity. 

It was pink purses, blue Parisian skies, and suits of red and black. It was the the sound of the ovens dinging, pigeons taking flight, loud bells between classes, and the dull cacophony of traffic that seemed to reach her whether she be curled up in bed or vaulting over the Arc de Triomphe. It was the smell of sweet creme filling melding into the scent of rain-soaked pavement curdling into the odor of Chloe’s cloying, over-priced perfume and then rewinding back again. **  
**

It was color and life and movement and “go here do this _save them_ ”, and as much as Marinette loved those moments of wild reddish curls engulfing her in a hug and heartfelt teases purred into the bridge of her knuckles, there were still times she just wished it would _stop._

Or, at the very least, just… pause? Perhaps _dull_ is the best way to describe it.

She wouldn’t trade her life for anything, but sometimes her father’s usually infectious laughter ground on her eardrums, her mother’s typically gentle fingers stung as they lovingly pinched her cheeks, and the warm scent of baking bread stuck unpleasantly thick to the inside of her nostrils. Sometimes Alix’s pink hair assaulted her eyes, Chloe’s perfume choked her lungs, and the droning voice of their teacher made Marinette abhor the classroom she often-times found so much solace in.  Sometimes the twang of her yo-yo made her cringe and the rushing of wind felt like needles against the portions of her face not covered by Ladybug’s mask, Chat’s puns falling as flat as the dull slap of rooftop beneath her sprinting feet.

Yes, every once in awhile Marinette felt things a bit _too_ keenly, experiencing life in a way that was too colorful, too loud, too busy for her senses to process. It made her twitch and sweat and stutter until she was forced to either snap or retreat, shying away from anything and everyone except…

The first time Nino had found her amidst a sensory overload, she’d been buried nose-deep in her sketchbook and curled beneath a schoolyard stairwell. 

Class had been scheduled to start in mere minutes, but Marinette had already resigned herself to the fact she’d be getting _yet another_ reprimand for skipping, as was becoming the norm for her superhero self. She couldn’t remember what in particular had set her off that day (it could have been Alya barraging her with Ladybug theories or the spatter of mud streaked across the hem of her newly-sewn skirt; Maybe even both) but whatever the cause, suffice it to say Marinette had been well and truly non-verbal when her friend had stumbled across her hideout.

She remembered looking up at him, trying to find the words to tell him she couldn’t handle another presence right now without risking his anger, when those brown eyes had melted in understanding behind the thick rim of his classes. Her mouth had parted, searching for an explanation or perhaps even a plea for solitude, but Nino had simply shook his head, dropped his messenger bag, and curled up on the ground beside her.

He hadn’t asked questions, hadn’t pushed her into telling him why she was in the state she was in. He’d simply pulled out his laptop, offered her one earbud, and spent the next two hours softly typing away beside her- the only indication of his presence the atmospheric beats (so unlike Marinette’s usual music tastes but somehow exactly what she needed) thrumming in her ear and the occasional brush of his shoulder against hers.

After that day, Nino became remarkably adept at finding Marinette when she was in one of her moods. Whether she be hidden in her regular spot beneath the stairs, tucked into one of the dozens of janitor’s closets across the campus, or even stationed at the park across the street, he always seemed to stumble across her within minutes of her retreat. At first it made her suspicious- Why was he following her? What did he want? -then guilty when she realized Nino had no ulterior motive. He didn’t push her for conversation or make any mention of the crush they both knew he harbored for her. He simply existed beside her when the world got to be too much: a calming presence free of expectation or over-stimulation.

Three weeks later, Marinette sought Nino out _before_ she broke, sparing him the hassle of having to find her. All she did was tap his shoulder and he gave her that same understanding nod, crafting an excuse for their departure before they escaped to their solitude together.

Two weeks after that, Nino approached _her_ with that familiar glazed look in his eyes, and Marinette finally got her turn to repay the favor. She took him back to the bakery during lunch break and they sunned on her balcony until she was beet red and he was smiling again, both teens returning for their afternoon classes more invigorated than they had been in months.

(Funny how the sting of her sunburn seemed to fade when she remembered how content he’d looked sprawled out beside her on the picnic blanket…)

From there, it became a routine.

When an extra-taxing akuma sapped her energy, Nino was there with a lap to nap on. When an argument with his parents grew especially sour, Marinette was there with a shoulder to cry on. When the house party got a little too crowded and a little too loud, the two ducked out hand and hand.

They silenced the outside world through the scratch of pencil against sketchbook and the tap of fingers against keyboard keys; Through the playlist of special songs (some his and some hers) that flowed through his left ear and her right. They muted the overload of _everything_ by focusing on the simple things: soft yarn wound around cold knitting needles clutched between inexperienced hands, a stray bubble popping damply against pale freckled cheeks, and the warm weight of a blanket cocooned around their curled up bodies.

Eventually, the brushing of shoulders turned to the wrapping of arms turned to the meeting of lips, but even _then_ their time together was still permeated by a sense of ease. Oh there were certainly butterflies, as is to be expected when it comes to matters of young love, but Marinette found that falling for Nino wasn’t the scary kind of falling at all. Rather than the moment of blinding panic one experienced when missing a step and nearly tripping down the stairs, loving him was like the gentle swoop in her belly when she swung across the skyline at night.

Exhilarating? Yes.

Breathtaking? Absolutely.

Scary?

…

No. Not since the first time.

 

* * *

 

Marinette’s life was one of vivacity. It was the full schedule of the civilian heaped with the added responsibilities of the hero- busy in a way that mostly kept her sane. It was loud and colorful and at times too much to handle on her own.

Luckily, thanks to Nino, she no longer had to.


End file.
